The Hardest Thing in This World is to Live in it
by flashwitch
Summary: A Phlint follow up to Dying is Easy, Living is Hard. Lots more angst and Pheels. Not much resolution.
1. Chapter 1

**The Hardest Thing in This World is to Live in it.**

******This first chapter is basically Phil's perspective on the gym encounter.**

* * *

Agent Barton was grinding on Phil's last nerve. He was avoiding him. He was falling apart. Phil really didn't have time for his drama on top of physiotherapy, catching up on 3 months of paperwork and case files. All in all, he thought, it had been much easier being dead.

But it was alright. Phil had a plan.

"Here's what we're going to do. You're going to go to the gym, and I'm going to call Clint and get him there. Then JARVIS will lock the door and you won't be allowed out unless you two actually have a conversation."

Okay, so it was Natasha's plan, but he was sure it would work. And a good handler listens to his assets.

* * *

He went to the gym and stood in the centre of the room. He felt a little self conscious, but then he moved to stand in the at ease position and that made him feel more comfortable. When the door opened, Phil wondered what on earth Nat had told Clint to get him there, because Barton looked panicked. Absolutely panicked, and he was wearing only a t shirt and boxers, which wasn't conducive to Phil's concentration. He decided to wait until Clint calmed down to try talking to him. Just as soon as he decided that though, Clint noticed him.

"Oh, screw this!" and then he turned around and tried to get the hell out. He looked like a trapped animal and it reminded Phil painfully of their first meeting. Clint shouldn't look like that anymore. He was supposed to be safe, sane and happy at SHIELD. Barton banged at the door and shouted at JARVIS. It looked like he was going to be at it for a while, and Phil's chest twinged. He went and sat down on the edge of the weight bench. He wasn't sure he had the stamina to deal with Clint.

In a shorter time than he expected, Barton gave in. He turned around and slid down the door, curling in on himself. Hmm, defensive posture. Phil should have dealt with this sooner. And he really didn't like Fury at the moment.

He'd thought he would just wait Clint out. He knew how much the man hated silence, but he looked so miserable...

"Agent Barton. We seem to keep missing each other lately." That's right. Keep it calm and level. Keep in control.

"You seem remarkably calm for someone locked in a gym, sir. I take it you were in on this?" Thank God, Clint was talking to him. He hadn't known how to deal with the silent Clint who had been stalking the hallways and avoiding him.

"And if I was?"

"I'd ask why."

"Clint..." and Clint flinched, smacking the back of his head on the door. Coulson immediately hated himself for it. He didn't want to cause Clint any more pain. He was across the room and next to his agent in a matter of seconds, and his hand came up to check the back of his head without thought.

"I'm fine," Clint said, pulling away. Coulson hadn't realised they were that badly off. They'd always taken care of each other's injuries, for years now. Clint had even bought him Captain America band-aids for his paper cuts.

"My apologies. Agent Barton." And Coulson had never felt so lost and unsure.

"No. Fuck. Phil, I'm messing this all up!" Coulson's turn to flinch. This wasn't Clint's fault.

"Come and sit down. We need to talk. Properly." He held out a hand and was overjoyed when Clint took it. He led the way over to a gymnastics bench near the wall and sat down, shoulders pressed together.

* * *

This time, Coulson just let the silence stretch out.

"You died," Clint said, sounding broken.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You _died,_ Phil. You aren't allowed to do that."

"I didn't intend to die, I assure you."

"I saw the tapes. You did intend to die. _They needed something to avenge_. Jesus, Phil."

"You were never supposed to see that. None of you were supposed to see that. And I'm still mad at Nick for the stunt with the cards."

"It worked, if that's any consolation. We teamed up. We saved the world. And I was their enemy ten minutes earlier."

Phil had always been able to see through Clint's bullshit. It was one of the reasons they were friends.

"It wasn't your fault. You know that, right?"

"I've spent the last three months trying to convince myself of that. Not sure how successful I was."

"Agent Barton." And that was illuminating. Clint sat up and actually _listened. _

"Yes, sir?"

"Anything that happened while you were under Loki's control was not your fault. You are to stop blaming yourself, and that is an order." And just like that, all the tension in Clint's body let go.

He started to cry.

Phil's hand wrapped around the back of his neck, needing to do something. He pulled Clint's solid bulk against him, and Clint clutched at him, desperate. Coulson guided him down to rest against his chest, wincing a little as it pulled at the still healing wound. It would have been completely healed now, if not for a nasty infection he'd had.

"I've got you, Agent."

And for now, everything was all right.


	2. Chapter 2

**References to sexual assault, abuse. Also references to Stargate Atlantis and Toy Story.**

* * *

They were going to have to move soon. The strain on Coulson's chest was getting to be too much. But holding Clint in his arms felt too good. Too natural. He had left it too long, let it fester too long.

"Hey," Clint said, as he finally managed to stop crying.

"Hey," Phil replied, smiling. "Want to sit up?"

"Not really."But he did, rubbing at his eyes as he got upright. "So. Sorry about that."

"Don't be. You're entitled. I did die after all."

"Yeah. You're seriously not allowed to do that anymore."

"I'll try my best." Phil knew it wasn't really reassuring though. "Are you ready to rejoin the rest of the world?"

Clint hesitated. He _hesitated._ Phil immediately knew there was more wrong than he'd thought. Clint never wanted to be trapped. He hated not having a way out. He needed a window.

"What's wrong?"

"There's things you don't know. About me. About what happened with Loki."

"You don't have to tell me."

"I know. I haven't told anyone yet. But I mean..." He trailed off gesturing to Phil, and Phil got it. This was them. They always gave each other complete reports. Barton, Coulson, Romanov. They told each other everything. "I think Natasha knows, at least parts of it, but you should know. Someone on our side should know."

"Someone on our side?"

"I mean, the others who were controlled, they know some of it. But, you should know."

"Alright. What do you want to tell me?" Phil kept his voice level.

"It's like... it wasn't like being forced. It wasn't like; gun to your head or knife at your back. It was more...like... ."

"Being roofied?" Phil guessed, tense and hoping to be wrong. They both knew what that felt like.

"Yeah, but that's not really right either. It's more like..." He searched for the words. "_Irresistible._ On Atlantis." They were both fans of the Stargate franchise, and so was Natasha (although she loved to make fun of Carter's changeable nature). It was easier for him to explain like this, Phil thought, with references and no details. _Irresistible_. Atlantis, and the team are drugged into wanting to do anything a stranger asks. It's not sexual in the way Rohypnal was (thank God) but it was more personal in a way. "He made me want it."

"Ah. I see." Phil wasn't sure how to respond to that. "That was him though, not you."

"I know that. But I wanted it. I wanted him to tell me what to do. It made me happy when things went well for him. And it wasn't like I was fighting at the back of my mind. It was more like I had a vague sensation that something was wrong, but it didn't matter because he was happy. It wasn't until I woke up that that changed." Clint looked at the floor and hunched his shoulders. "I killed our people and felt happy about it."

"Still not your fault."

"I know that. Logically. But it's going to take a while to reconcile the two emotions."

"All right. I'll make sure you have time to adjust." Clint didn't say anything. "Was there something else?"

"Some of the things he made me do... they might take a while to get over."

"Like what?" It was getting more and more difficult to keep his Agent Coulson face in place. He needed to do this for Clint. He needed to stay calm.

Maybe he'd ask Banner for some tips.

Clint glanced at Phil from the corner of his eye and clearly read his mind.

"Jesus, Phil. Not that. I wasn't raped. I'm pretty sure Loki is asexual judging by the way he acted."

"Really?" Phil made a note, the information may come in handy some day.

"Yeah." Clint sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Some of the things he made me do had a sexual component, like masturbating myself or getting naked, but he just liked humiliating me."

"Hmmm." Phil wanted to say that that counted as sexual assault at least, but Clint knew that. Phil knew Clint knew that.

"It was mostly stupid stuff, licking his boots, acting as a footstool, stuff like that. I mean, it wasn't bad. Just..." he rubbed the back of his neck. "He was bored and I was his favourite toy."

They sat quietly for a long time after that.

"Clint, as much as I want to hear whatever you want to tell me, can we move to one of our rooms?" Phil said finally, rubbing his chest, and was gratified at the speed Clint moved at.

"Shit, Phil, you should have said something. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just sore, and I'm due for some meds."

"Okay. I thought...how recovered are you?" Phil heard the subtext: You aren't going to die again?

"I really am mostly fine. I just have to follow doctors orders a little longer." He looked up at the ceiling. "JARVIS, door."

"Certainly, Agent Coulson." Clint snorted and muttered something about AI favouritism that Phil chose to ignore.

Clint paused in the hallway, shivering slightly in just his sleepwear.

"My room is closer," Phil offered, and Clint nodded. They walked side by side, shoulders brushing.

* * *

It was awkward again when they got into the suite that Tony had arranged for Coulson. Partly because of the distance between them; they needed to relearn being in each other's space. And partly because Clint flinched when Phil popped a couple of pills in his mouth. But partly because it felt strange talking to Clint about all this under the eyes of the vintage Captain America propaganda posters that Tony had bought and had framed for him. From the narrow eyed look Clint shot at the poster above the bed, it was clear he felt the same way.

Coulson wondered if it said something that they'd naturally gravitated to the bedroom...

"So..." Clint trailed off.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me? Anything else you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. There's stuff that happened, yeah. I mean, I was like a toy to him, and he was like... that mean kid in _Toy Story_."

"Sid."

"I love that you know that." Clint was grinning, and Phil smiled back.

"I have this asset with an unhealthy love of Disney movies." He meant it lightly, but then he saw Clint's face fall and realised that he'd referred to him as just an asset, which was fine when they were on normal footing or in the field, but they were both feeling more than a little insecure, so... "No! I didn't mean, I meant I have a friend, not an asset."

Clint was smiling again, and Coulson blushed. He never babbled like that. Well, unless Clint and Nat were teasing him.

"Yeah, okay." Clint sounded tentative. "Friends, then?"

"I thought we'd had this conversation years ago." Coulson frowned. Clint had always been less self assured than he appeared (it came from his childhood), but after Hawkeye had tried to leave SHIELD after a mission had gone wrong and had been tracked down by Nat and Phil, then tied to a chair until he pulled his head out of his ass, Phil had thought Clint realised they were more than asset and handler.

"No, I didn't mean... I meant... oh, screw it." And he leaned in and pressed an almost chaste kiss to the corner of Phil's mouth.

"Oh."

"Sorry, sorry, if you don't..."

"No, I..."

"It's really okay."

"I've been thinking similar thoughts."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

They stared at each other and then Coulson leaned in slowly and took possession of Clint's mouth. It started as just a firm, wet pressure, and then Clint opened to him and they both moaned as their tongues found each other.

After a few moments of making out, Clint pulled back, and Phil tried to follow him, his pupils blown wide.

"Hey, easy! I don't think I can go much further with Cap watching me. It's weird." Phil closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing control of himself. He nodded.

"You're right. And we should take this slowly. We still have a lot to talk about."

"Yeah. Like how are you, and are you going to still be our handler, and how this will affect things if we do go ahead with it."

"I'm healing as well as can be expected. SHIELD has the best doctors in the world, and the best technology, medical as well as otherwise. You'd know that if you stayed in the infirmary for more than ten minutes at a time. If you'd paid attention, you'd know that the others are talking about breaking from SHIELD after what happened with Fury. But no one could talk to you for long enough to get your opinion."

"So you wouldn't be our handler anymore?"

"No. I'd be a liaison between SHIELD and the Avengers. I'd still basically have the same duties, but you'd all have more freedom and Fury would have no real authority over you."

"Oh."

"If we do go ahead with this, with us, then nothing could change in the field. But we're already compromised in all the ways that we might worry about. How many times has one of us gone against orders to bring the other back alive?"

"What about Natasha?"

"We need to talk to her."

"Yeah." Clint laughed a little. The three of them had relied on each other, trusted each other, for years. "She'll probably laugh at us. And ask us what took us so long."

"What about the other Avengers?" Phil asked.

"I'd rather not tell them yet." And while Phil had been expecting that, it still hurt. "I want you for myself for a while. And I'm not sure how the others feel about this sort of thing."

"Alright. If that's what you want."

"You're sure you're okay with this?"

"Yeah. I am. But I do want us to go slowly. I've only just got you back, I don't want to lose you again."

"You just got _me_ back? _You're_ the one who died!"

"And you're the one who wouldn't look at me when I came back!"

"You left me!"

"I came back!"

This was wrong. Phil tried to calm down. They shouldn't be shouting at each other. He pulled back, trying to get himself under control. Clint followed him, insinuating himself against Phil's side. It seemed he was going to be clingy for a while, but Phil couldn't really blame him for that.

"Stay here tonight. Just to sleep, but stay." It was all he could give him right now.

"Okay." Clint readily agreed.

It wasn't as late as you might think. Clint had gone to bed early, he had been sleeping badly the last couple of weeks. And they'd been talking for about an hour or so. A surprisingly quick epiphany. It was maybe midnight. Coulson stood up, and lifted the covers for Clint to slide under. He then removed his suit (with Clint watching hungrily)and slid into bed beside Barton. He forwent his usual bedtime routine, just this once, because he wanted to Clint in his arms.


	3. Chapter 3

Phil woke up feeling far too hot. He opened his eyes and looked around. Assessing the situation. Clint was pressed tightly to his left side, and Phil smiled as he looked at him. pressed to his right was Natasha. Which was surprising, if not exactly unprecedented. Sometimes after a particularly bad op, they'd end up piled together like puppies, reassuring each other that they're safe and whole. It had never been sexual between them. Well, not outside of ops where they'd had to pretend. But they were closer than most couples ever were, all three of them. It come from having complete trust in each other. From relying on each other. From never giving up on each other.

He'd underestimated how much the last few months, and the two weeks since he came back, had been affecting them. He sighed.

Natasha pinched him, not even opening her eyes.

"You were dead. Stop beating yourself up about it."

"Are you alright?" he asked her.

"Better now."

"Good. And you're alright with me and Clint?"

"What took you so long? That's all I've got to say on the subject." Phil smiled, but it faded as Clint snuggled closer to him, making a low noise in his sleep.

"Clint's been telling me about Loki."

"Yeah. it was bad. And then you were gone. I was left picking up the pieces."

"I'm sorry for that. Do you think he's going to be alright?"

"Yes. The things that Loki did to him, they weren't that bad compared to some of the things he's had done to him before. You know this."

"Yeah, but..." Phil shrugged. This was different. He hadn't been there.

"So, fix it. Make up for it now." This was why the three of them worked.

"I suppose that's all I can do."

"He loves you, you know."

"I'm starting to realise, yes."

"You do realise that if you hurt him no one will ever find the body." And from Natasha that wasn't an idle threat.

"Yes."

"Good. I'll tell him the same when he wakes up." Natasha snuggled closer to him. "Now go to sleep. It's still early."

"Alright." Coulson pressed a kiss to her forehead, and then did the same for Clint, who made a happy noise.

It wasn't perfect. Clint was still dealing with a lot of issues, and Coulson had a few of his own. And they'd have to be careful not to damage the team, or hurt Natasha's feelings. But for right now, curled up in the warmth of his two best friends, his lover and the woman who was like a little sister to him, it was more than enough.

They were going to be okay.

He had to believe that. And he might doubt himself (as a recently resurrected man) but he would never doubt Clint or Natasha. They were his everything. And he couldn't afford to screw it up.

But that was okay, because they wouldn't let him.


End file.
